


What Should I Do?

by deadlypen1



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Not exactly a fix-it fic, more like arya getting some sense drilled into her head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 06:50:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18773449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadlypen1/pseuds/deadlypen1
Summary: Arya gets some tough love from two people whose opinions she holds in high regard about Gendry's proposal.





	What Should I Do?

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone's writing fix-it fics about what happened in 8x04. This is just me dealing with that.

Sansa Stark saw a light in the Winterfell stables, unsure of who would still be up this time of night. All of Jon and Daenerys' forces were marching south to King’s Landing, making a valiant attempt at ending Cersei’s tyranny once and for all. If anyone tried to steal whatever horses they had left,

The lady made her way down to the courtyard and open the stable door, finding the familiar silhouette of her sister, hitching a saddle to one of the horses.

“Arya, what are you doing?” Sansa asked.

“I didn’t think anyone would be up this late,” Arya softly replied, not acting too bothered about how she was discovered.

“We can’t spare any more horses right now, Jon took most of them down south.”

“I’m going to King’s Landing in the morning. Have to make sure she’s ready.”

Sansa moved closer, sensing something was off about this behavior. “There’s no way you’re going south on your own when you could’ve gone with,”

As Sansa reached her sister, she forced around to meet her face to face. Arya’s eyes had some redness and her cheeks were wet.

‘Arya, were you crying?”

Arya sniffled, trying to hold back what tears she had left. “No,” she denied.

“I haven’t seen you cry since you went to Septa Mordane about boys bullying you when you were eight. What happened?”

“Gendry proposed to me.”

That was a combination of words Sansa was not prepared to hear. Gendry, or any man at all, proposed to her little sister? The one who acted more like a boy than a girl most of the time in their youth? Arya wasn’t crying anymore, but Sansa offered a hug, which Arya accepted for a few seconds.

“When? How?” Sansa was still trying to process this fact when she let go of the embrace.

“He did it right after he was legitimized. I’m sure he was drunk when he did.”

“Well? What’d you say?”

“I told him I wasn’t a lady.”

“That’s not a straight answer, Arya. Did you not give him a definite answer?”

Arya turned back around, continuing her work of getting the saddle situated.

“Oh, my,” Sansa felt she had figured something out about her sister. Something that hadn’t been apparent since she returned to Winterfell. “Arya Stark is afraid to fall in love.”

“No, I’m not,” Arya angrily retorted, desperate to swat down that notion. “I’m just not ready to consider that.”

“Arya, you have no idea how lucky you are.”

“What’s so lucky about what Gendry did?” Arya showed confusion at how well her sister was taking the news. “Proposals happen all the time.”

“I’m the one in this family that has to marry for politics, not love. I’ve been groomed for it all my life. You, you managed to have an actual choice in who you want to love. And the new lord of Storms End too.”

“I’ve heard nice things about it.” 

“So why didn’t you say yes? Cause you didn’t want to be a lady? I remember you saying that a lot when you were little.”

“I told you. I’m not ready.”

“You sat in the war council when Jon was planning the defense of Winterfell, giving him advice. That’s something a lady would do. You told Jon what you thought of Daenerys. That’s something else a lady would do.”

“It’s one sibling giving advice to another. We do it all the time.”

Sansa’s voice grew more agitated. “Arya, we’ve fought beside the queen of dragons, possibly the first woman knight in Westeros and a red priestess. Lady Mormont gave her life to help protect our home. I poured my soul into keeping Winterfell and the North safe. You cannot tell me we all have the same views of what ladies can do in Westeros that you rejected Gendry for!”

The gravity of Sansa’s words did strike Arya hard, but she worked not to show how right her sister was, trying to work on her horse.

“Our own mother fought by Robb’s side when the North was at war. She wasn’t at home sewing and sitting in some tower waiting for him to come home. She was actively trying to make sense of this world and make it a better place for all of us. If she and father knew you could be the lady of Storm’s End, they would’ve made sure Gendry treated you like the kind of lady you want to be.” 

Arya continued ignoring her.

“You do love him, don’t you? I doubt anyone would propose to you if you didn’t know each other inside and out. And given that, do you really think Gendry would want you to change to be by his side?”

“Yes, I panicked!” Arya finally snapped. “I panicked from thinking of all the things I did as a young girl. What ladies were forced to do. Sewing. Kept in a castle to produce heirs. I know he wouldn’t, but if I try to get him back, he might say no too. What should I do?”

“I’ll get some sense into him. Tell him to get his act together and how to get it right next time. You, you do what you need to do. You be your own lady.”

Sansa turned to the stable door, leaving Arya to finish preparing for her horse ride in the morning.

“He truly is a Baratheon,” Sansa remarked. “Charging headfirst into something he doesn’t completely understand.”

 

Arya and the Hound had ridden south for a week, passing by several sights in the Riverlands from her journeys long ago. The Twins, Oldstones, the Old Crossroads Inn among them. She couldn’t bring herself to go near the likes of Harrenhal or Riverrun, full of family memories.

Every night when they set up camp, the two took turns trying to find animals to eat. Cooking was done in silence, as Arya would either stare into the fire or the woods. She thought of her rash decision, what she was leaving behind in Winterfell for this last chance to get Cersei.

Arya would occasionally crave some branches as she was lost in her thoughts. They all ended up in one of three ways. This all ending with Cersei dead or herself dead, both of which didn’t carry any further train of thought.

The third way was Gendry. If he had settled into his family castle yet. If he had started looking for other ladies. If there was a chance they could end up together.

“I know I said you’ve gotten quiet, but this is something else,” Sandor remarked.

“What is?”

“You hardly said anything in the week we’ve been traveling. Something’s clearly on your mind.”

“How I’m going to end this war when I kill Cersei.”

“Then what? Let’s say you get your revenge. What happens then? I remember my brother being one of those names too. Well, he’s mine.”

Fair enough, Arya thought to herself. The Mountain would be a hard task for anyone to kill. And she heard Oberyn Martell barely managed to do it the first time. Who knows what it would take to try and do it again.

“Let me tell you something, there ain’t no way you’re killing Cersei. That city’s filled with what’s left of the Lannister army ready to fight off what the dragon bitch is bringing. Thousands of troops and thousands of dumb civilians. Most of whom probably like the blonde cunt. I don’t know how you managed to sneak past the walkers, but you ain’t getting through that city to the Red Keep. If anything, we’ll be the last ones to the party. It’ll be a smoldering wreck by the time we get there.”

“Then we best keep moving. Faster if we have to.”

“You know what, forget about the queen for a moment. What about Joffrey? I remember him being on your list too, and he died without your help. What’s gonna happen once your list has no more names on it? How’re you gonna talk yourself to sleep then? Will you just make more enemies just so you can have more names?”

Arya tried not paying attention to what Sandor had to say, continuing to stare into the fire. But he did have a point. Saying every name on that list gave her some kind of meaning back when she was younger. She stopped saying it as she returned to Winterfell, with the remains of her Stark family and Gendry supplanting the need to say it. But this quest, to finish her list, made her feel like she was back to being 13 years old, when she and the Hound arrived too late to the Twins to do anything about the Red Wedding. 

When she was at her most afraid and vengeful.

“This. All this sulking,” Sandor said. “It’s about Gendry, ain’t it? You like him, don’t’cha?”

Arya snapped out of her trance to stare at Sandor, knowing that he cut to the heart of something.

“He didn’t say anything to me directly, but I could tell. He’s a good lad. Might make a shit lord though.”

“Gendry will make a fine lord. He just needs help, that’s all.”

“Did he do something stupid to you?”

“He proposed to me.”

Sandor stopped for a moment, taken aback by the news. He gave the same look Sansa did before. “Wow. A newly legitimized bastard trying to get the savior of Westeros to marry him. That’s ambitious. I respect that. Not surprised you said no.”

“I never said no to him.”

“If you said yes, you wouldn’t be riding a horse down to King’s Landing with me. Of all the things I thought you could run away from, love was the last thing I’d guess.”

I’m not running away, Arya thought.

“He’s going to try again. If I know my Baratheons, he’s not going to give up that easily.”

He’s probably right, Arya thought. Unless she left Westeros completely, she could never truly leave Gendry behind. Given her extended stay at Braavos, she was not prepared to do that again. And there’s no doubt she’d run into Lord Gendry Baratheon somehow in this land. 

Sooner or later, this topic would come up again.

“What do you think I should do?” Arya asked.

“You think I know what people should do with their love lives? Especially teenage girls? Some of the Winterfell wenches tried coming onto me and I scared them off.”

“Well I love him and you said he’s a good person. What do you think I should do?”

“Honestly,” Sandor didn’t know how to put his thoughts. Love was often the last thing on his mind since no woman would spend too much time with a man with a half-burned face. But, despite Arya’s streaks of wild ferocity and cold temperament, he wanted what could give her the longest life possible. She did more to help this world than his decades of being a knight. “I think you should marry him. Or be with him at least. You two are made for each other. And it’d get you out of harm’s way most of the time.”

“I can defend myself fine,” Arya didn’t act impressed with his answer.

“You like weapons. He can make you weapons. You both don’t take shit from anyone, especially me. He’s a Baratheon. You’re a Stark.”

“Family names weren’t why I liked him.”

“Well, if you liked him enough to fuck him as a bastard, what makes it any different now that he has a castle?”

How does he know that? Arya panicked in her head, jumping up from the ground to rush over to the Hound.

“Don’t think I don’t know what happened between you two when I escorted him to the front lines,” Sandor got in before Arya could make any retorts.

Arya thought about pulling her dagger and giving him the gift of mercy right now, but that would be plain stupid. And he said Gendry’s a good lad, despite giving him the same amount of shit as her.

“If there’s one thing I thought you’d take from our time together, it’s that this life of a wandering knight is a fuckin’ nightmare. After seeing all you do back in Winterfell, with your family, fighting to save everyone, I don’t want you throwing it away for the chance of getting one thing you’re probably not going to get. I already told your sister my regrets about her. Don’t make me have any more for you too. And don’t have any of your own.”

Arya backed off to her prior spot on the other side of the fire, her face softening, but not enough to convince Sandor he had gotten through to her.

“Like you said, we’ll pick up the pace in the morning,” Sandor concluded, pulling blankets over himself and facing away from the fire, trying to get some sleep. But like Sansa before, the Hound helped Arya face facts that she didn’t leave Gendry the best terms.

When this is all over, wherever she ended up, Arya would try and mend things somehow. If Gendry asked her again, she would be better prepared to deal with it. And have a straight answer.

“Sandor,” Arya said. “I appreciate your honesty.”

The Hound made no reaction to what Arya said, though she assumed he heard her. She continued staring into the fire, imagining what the smoldering embers of King’s Landing look like. And what Gendry was up to.


End file.
